


A conversation (that's all I ask)

by ShadowSelene (Shadowdianne)



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-19
Updated: 2019-03-19
Packaged: 2019-11-24 04:57:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,657
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18161750
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shadowdianne/pseuds/ShadowSelene
Summary: Regina is one of the worlds best managers but her personal life is miserable: her spouse is cheating on her with the personal trainer or so she thinks and her car breaks down in the middle of nowhere. In a run down bar she discovers a young taltened muscian and falls in love with her; her name is Emma Swan.





	A conversation (that's all I ask)

 

“First time here, isn’t it?”

The line made Regina growl inwardly for a moment as she felt the warmth of a body approaching the vacant stool she had managed to defend for the entire night ever since she had walked into the bar; sopping wet and mascara smudged enough to hide the far too telling red rimming her eyes. She had heard similar lines after she had swallowed her pride and had walked towards the bar counter, asking quickly for a phone only to be denied one with a curt “no good signal with this storm ma’am” that had left her more or less hopeless.  Still, the bar, despite the dim light, the obvious not well-kept wood that made 90% of its interior and the stale scent of fried food and alcohol, was warm as opposed to her Mercedes and so she had stayed, asking for a glass of something that felt like a badly made cider. One that she was still nursing as she glanced at her right, at where the voice -feminine but with enough intention for her to feel suspicious- had come from.

The scathing response she had prepared died on her lips as she was faced with the blonde beauty that had been strumming an old guitar up until a few minutes ago; her voice low but still filling the shoddy pub. Regina hadn’t recognized the songs that had fallen from the blonde’s pink lips, but she had found herself entranced by those, despite her mood. Or, a voice whispered in the back of her head, precisely because of it.

She hadn’t only noticed her mouth though but the faraway smile that the woman got as she sang had kept her grounded as she kept her back straight as a rod, her free hand clutching her handbag against her midriff and lap, the pieces of her phone’s screen where she had smashed it a few hours prior still protruding from the soft leather of the bag but not as painful as they had been before.

Blinking, she realized the woman was still staring at her, blonde curls reflecting the gold dim light just as much as her green eyes did and Regina found herself lowering her gaze to the white tank top she wore and the tight jeans and boots that completed an outfit she could only describe as gay. Not like she would know anything about it, would she? The question bore the insidious voice of her mother, the same tone she had heard over and over again during her formative years returning with a scary accuracy, one strong enough for her to almost glance above the blonde’s shoulders; almost expecting Cora to be standing there, eyes glowing like embers and about to strike.

Fortunately for her, Cora wasn’t there and so she let herself focus back on the blonde, on how her smile hadn’t wavered. She had approached the stool, yes, but hadn’t seated herself on it; her hands clutching the combed wooden bar that worked as the plate and back. She, Regina realized belatedly, had very nice arms, a detail she pushed to the back of her mind, not willing to give that any thought at all.

Shaking her head, she urged it to clear itself from the spell she seemed to have fallen into only to raise her chin and narrow her eyes at the woman that looked two or three years younger than her even with the juvenile clothes she downed. When she finally spoke, Regina grimaced at how she sounded, the usual modulated version of her voice deeper and tired.

“How very astute of you.”

Any other man that had tried to approach her after she had seated herself had left while muttering various expletives at her replies and Regina had found some comfort on that. This time, however, the stranger chuckled at her before pointing at the very stool she had in front of her, palm upwards, extended.

“May I sit?”

And, truly, Regina didn’t know how to feel about either the question or the answer she was supposed to give. She just felt tired, exhausted, and the prospect of needing to wait until the storm ended, stranded in the middle of nowhere with no phone and no signal should have been enough for her to simply turn her back towards the blonde while swallowing whatever spark of desire she was feeling about her. No matter how rooted her fear was, the fear that had transformed into suspicion the moment she had seen Robin almost -almost- kissing that other woman she wasn’t… like that. She would never follow that, whatever that was.

Still, she found herself nodding to the question, the scattered conversation around the bar, the one that had been filtered away ever since the blonde had spoken to her, returning back to her ears now that she could spy to the other woman’s profile: on how she put both of her elbows on the counter, apparently not bothered by its stickiness or the occasional peanut crumb.

“Name’s Emma by the way. Emma Swan.”

The blonde spoke effortlessly, an easy smile on her lips and yet, Regina quickly noticed after so many years of learning how to read a table full of possible shareholders and board members, guarded. Her green eyes sparkled with obvious interest but the back of them glimmered with something else and one side of her, the curious side, wondered what that could be. Not that she herself was the perfect example of an open book of course.

Emma. The name somewhat fitted her, and she found herself repeating it, splitting the sound, elongating the “m” in a way that made one single brow of the blonde rise.

“I’m Regina.” She stopped herself for a moment, at the surname she had almost uttered after that. She had grown accustomed to it, at using it as an armor, as the perfect presentation for herself. This time, however, she didn’t feel like using it and so she pressed her lips together once more, a lopsided smirk Emma’s green eyes followed with far too much intensity. One she should put an end to. “I’m married.”

It came out of her far too blurted, far too strong and she could almost feel the physical blast the last word created between she and the other woman. Not like the word felt real to her at the moment, not like it had been this morning, last week, last month, but it still held some weight, even if she had taken out her ring in a fit of rage. Emma’s answer to that was a blink and stiffness on her shoulders, stiffness that eased up just as quickly as she rose her hand and called the bartender over, the words “the usual” rising, melodic, before she turned back to Regina.

“I’m not.” Her eyes lighted up, mischievous, but some of her general demeanor changed; less strong, less burning and Regina found herself smiling at it, at the welcomed changed. “I’m harmless though. Promise.”

And Regina found that she believed her, believed on her earnest eyes and slightly slouched posture. Rising her glass when the usual turned out to be a beer bottle, she cheered alongside with Emma, taking a sip of an already far too lukewarm cider.

“You should have asked for one of these.” The blonde said while still holding the bottle up. “I really think that’s rat poison.”

“Have you taken enough of that to be sure about it?”

The banter, the joke, came far too naturally for her, to her usual uptight and rather worried about how she was perceived self but she found herself enjoying that easiness Emma created around her; even if part of it was manufactured and, at her laughter, Regina found herself growing more at ease with each passing second.

“Wouldn’t you want to know…”

Emma, as Regina soon found out, wasn’t from the small village she had passed a while ago, nor she lived in a cot at the bar’s storage room as the blonde was quick to point out with a pitched laugh. She actually, was from the city just as Regina was although the neighborhood she mentioned wasn’t exactly near to Regina’s own. She had lived in many places however, a backpack always with her as well as a guitar. She had had many odd jobs, the one she had enjoyed the most working with someone that almost sounded like a mentor as a bail bondsperson and, despite everything, music seemed to be the thing she always went back to, no matter what.

“I just enjoy it far too much.” She said, deep into her second bottle as Regina asked for her own first, the taste quite the upgrade from the cider. “What about you?” Emma gestured wildly at the almost dried black suit Regina wore; chaffed and wrinkled but ostensibly more expensive that the younger woman’s clothes. “Do you work for a law firm? You look like you do.”

Regina couldn’t help herself but laugh a little at that. Her mother would have loved that assumption.

“No, I don’t.” She replied but didn’t offer any more on that, her silence apparently everything Emma needed to drop the subject.

And it was odd, Regina thought, because despite Emma’s obvious curiosity, she never pushed whenever Regina let her know she didn’t feel comfortable enough to talk about certain things. Like her husband for example. A topic that made Regina’s throat burn as she took a big swig of her second -third? - beer. The blonde was obviously about to make a joke, one that would make Regina smile and forget that line of conversation, but Regina pressed the tips of her fingers against the glass of the bottle, the slight pain on her knuckles acting almost as a trigger.

“I think he is cheating on me.”

Emma’s eyes darkened slightly at that and while her words were slightly slurred than at the beginning she still hold that earnest undertone to it as she replied.

“Then he is an idiot.”

And, despite herself, despite everything, Regina felt flattered. Truly flattered. Enough to mutter a “maybe” under her breath that got Emma smiling and laughing a little, pushing her shoulder against Regina, her forearm brushing hers, her warmth obvious and welcoming in a way Regina wouldn’t have imagined for it to be a few hours prior.

Eventually, the storm fizzled out, patrons beginning to leave and, despite the good time the brunette was having, she realized that she, too, should as well.

“It’s been a pleasure, Emma.” Her voice was thick with tiredness, the crumbs of her dried mascara biting her eyes as she blinked. “I should leave though.”

“You can’t drive like this!” Emma’s voice rose in protest, following Regina’s movements, standing up in a jump that made her stumble as her own equilibrium was tested. And while that was endearing on itself, Regina rose a brow to the words, even if some part of her knew that the blonde was right: she had drunk far too much to drive with wet asphalt and dark shadows cornering her car. Car she wasn’t even sure that would start up. Although she truly hoped it would and the malfunction had simply been overheating. One that should have passed and that would allow her to cover the distance between the bar and her home; what she had seen when she had left the house in blinding hot tears a thing she would deal in the morning.

“What do you suggest?” Her mouth asked instead. “Sleep in that cot you definitely don’t have here?”

She felt she was about to have an answer to her question the moment Emma’s eyes traveled from her to the bartender, the one that Emma had called Aesop at some point and who was definitely smirking at this point.

“Actually…”

Actually, Aesop had a small room above the bar, small and just as shoddy but good enough for “occasional” guests. Regina should have been appalled but she didn’t find enough of herself to care at this point and so she had accepted the offer, even if that meant sharing with an almost total stranger. The man left them to their devices once he reminded Emma to leave the small key right where he always put it and, despite everything, despite every word and every warning and every doubt, Regina almost wanted to kiss the blonde as she knew they both were alone in the dingy room; a bed and an armchair the only thing that filled the small space.

She, however, resisted the impulse. It was a bad idea, she told herself as she watched as Emma jumped out of her jeans, the red panties she was able to see after that a scorching mark as her mother’s words from earlier returned with even more intensity. It was a really bad idea, she whispered as she too discarded her clothes, folding them as neatly as possible and leaving them in the seat of the chair, trying hard not to think on how her faced looked, on the makeup she still felt clinging to her pores, on the almost sticky feeling the rain had left on her skin. She would go back to her life the following morning, talk to Robin, maybe file for divorce, maybe discover she had been wrong, maybe trying to fix a marriage she wasn’t sure that was worth the effort. Maybe…

She fell asleep within seconds, the last thing she heard a whispered goodnight as the mattress dipped and shivered as Emma turned into her side to look at her.

The following morning found her alone, her clothes and purse still where she had left them and, on top of her blazer, a note with a scrambled handwriting with just a phone number on it and an even skimpier sentence: _If you ever want to talk again._ Next to it, Aesop’s key also waited for her although, turned out, she didn’t need to leave it to whatever place was the usual one as the man was already downstairs. He looked at her once before telling her that she should be able to make a call if her car didn’t start. He didn’t mention Emma but he still smiled at her with the same smile he had given Emma during the night prior and Regina swallowed thickly at that; not really understanding what to make of it.

She eventually didn’t need to call for help and so she rode to the city, phoneless and with Emma’s memory on the back of her brain.

She didn’t call her, but she kept the note and during the following weeks she pushed herself to sort things right; to grief a marriage that wasn’t making her happy despite the countless promises both she and Robin had once shared. To file for divorce, to call Kathryn and her sister and tell them the most stupid ideas of all; of how she had out of love and in love in the same night, the culprit of the later a blonde woman with a name Regina loved how it sounded.

Until, one day, three months and a half after that morning, she found herself pressing the last button of a number she already knew by heart due to the many times she had stared at it.

“Yes?”

Regina rolled her eyes at that; Emma would never answer a call in the proper way, of course she wouldn’t. And she was nervous, and she didn’t feel any bit ready, but she still wanted to share a strange night with the woman. A conversation, a drink so she could get to know the blonde. Truly know her.

“Emma?”

She heard the silence at the other end of the line, one that felt too long and one that made her almost end the call, afraid. Up until she heard a shaky breath and just one single word.

“Hi.”


End file.
